The Deal
by JirachiAJ
Summary: Charon is a shiny Banette living in a village full of Comfey. He would do anything for them, even if it means dying. That being said, it's no problem when a long-standing deal becomes Charon's duty, even if it has devastating consequences.


Charon shuddered as he stepped into the forest clearing. It was barren, save for the small rock in the middle. Charon fired a spectral orb at it. Instantly, it glowed with an eerie purple light and a Spiritomb popped out.

"On time, as usual, we see," it said, its voice many but speaking in unison. Charon nodded and took off his flower crown.

The Spiritomb took this action as his readiness. A deep purple mist began to engulf the area. Charon closed his eyes as he felt his body go rigid.

Time seemed to skip. Charon's body hit the ground. His blue cloth looked paler than usual. The Spiritomb, however, felt rejuvenated.

"You upheld your end of the bargain, so we shall uphold ours. Your village is safe for another week."

Charon nodded weakly and dragged himself to his feet. He picked up his flower crown. It was black and dead. A pink light pulsed from Charon's hands and the flowers began to regain their youth. Charon placed his prized possession on his head and walked away.

Weeks upon weeks passed. Every energy drain was more painful and devastating than the last. Chaon hated it, but he said nothing. He did it for his village.

The last drain had particularly taken its toll. Charon's cloth was almost completely pale, making him seem like an actual ghost. His eyes were heavy with fatigue. Sleep was the only thing he did for days. He hated leaving the Comfey to fend for themselves, but he knew they'd be fine. And for a while, he was right. They continued with their daily activities just fine without him.

But as we all know, good things don't last.

* * *

Charon stared at the Spiritomb balefully. They both knew this would be it. After this, Charon was as good as dead. Nonetheless, he stepped forward, submitting himself to the Spiritomb. The usual process began and Charon knew the end was here for him.

Something- no, someone- pulled him back. Death vanished from Charon's field of vision. Charon stared up at his saver. They seemed familiar, and yet, he couldn't really tell.

The Spiritomb, once cackling moments before, was now screaming, as if all 108+ souls had stubbed their toe. It was a scream of the damned, the ones who couldn't uphold their ends of the bargain.

The ones who had been fully drained.

Charon was snapped out of his trance as he felt the cold metal of steel wrap around him. Looking down, he wasn't all that surprised to see an anchor. The Spiritomb's once-green orbs had turned silver.

The Spiritomb's adversary leapt into action. The anchor was decimated almost immediately and the Spiritomb hissed. Despite this, all Charon heard was a single voice. A single voice lost in all the chaos. A single voice that was screaming at him and begging him to run.

Charon's body seemed to move on its own. He dragged himself to his feet and took off, never sparing that clearing another glance.

* * *

Two days.

Two long, agonizing days.

That's how long it had been. Two days.

Charon's eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. His breakfast, lunch, and dinner went untouched and were sitting on his nightstand.

Charon never knew how boring house arrest was. He had heard of it but never experienced it until now.

Charon longed to touch the grass, to breathe the cool summer air. He longed to find out what had happened two days ago.

The shiny Banette had had enough. He got up and phased through the wall. He had never moved so quickly. He was a blur as he sped toward the forest.

Upon arrival, he stared. Subliminally, tears began to roll down his face. His fears had been confirmed.

The keystone of the Spiritomb was glowing. It was alternating colors, but a newer gray one had been added. It was faint, but there. Charon looked away. Whoever had saved him had the misfortune of being drained. He knew from experience what that process was like, but it pained him to know someone else had to know it as well. Charon bowed his head and said a silent prayer for the innocent soul.

Months passed. Charon assumed his normal life. The last drain had done the Spiritomb well, but Charon found himself being dragged back there once again. This time, death was not avoidable.

Charon began to cry as he remembered his life. It had been wrecked by tragedy. He had been lost to his parents and brother at an early age. He didn't know if they were even alive, but he sincerely hoped his brother was having a way better life. Charon's flower crown drooped, prompting the Banette to adjust it.

Time seemed to skip. Charon found himself engulfed in the Spiritomb's eerie mist. Death was reaching out to him, comforting him, calling him. Beyond death, Charon could see his parents.

Tears streamed down his face. He knew what that meant. Charon strained his eyes, but his brother was not visible. A new hope ran through Charon. Determination, an emotion he had hardly ever felt, consumed him. A pink light left Charon's right hand and hit the Spiritomb.

Charon was dropped from the mist in an instant. He stood up, crying tears of sadness and anger. He turned and ran to the village. The Comfey residents were none the wiser about Charon's near-death experience. Charon gave a weak smile and collapsed, spent.

It comforted Charon knowing he wasn't alone. The Comfey took care of him until he made a full recovery. His brother, while not there, seemed to be by his side. And beyond that, a few more bonds of those unknown. How many, he couldn't tell. But they were there and they comforted him.

He loved that.


End file.
